Rory Gilmore Is Getting Married
by auzstar913
Summary: -Based On The Book 'Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married'- When a twenty-six-year-old Rory is told by a fortune teller she is set to get married, every man Rory seems to be a potential husband. But does she know he's right under her nose? Review!


   I stared at the computer screen, glancing at the work I was meant to be running a check on. These were people in debt. 

   It was a long list. 

   Some had been in debt for seven or eight years, others only nine or ten months. I never said it outloud, but working in a place like this made me feel good about myself in a way. It's nice to know that while you barely scrape in enough money for rent, there are other people who haven't had at least five cents in their bank account for about five years. 

   I know I sound incredibly snobbish and uptight, but you wouldn't be able to cast judgement until you met Paris Geller. 

   The thing about Paris is that she moved from an incredibly small town in Massachusets to here in New York City, while she plans to backpack her way across Europe. She reminds us constantly that she'd rather be somewhere else, and that she'll be leaving very shortly. Much to the delight of Babette, who has put up with Paris's taunting from the moment she stepped foot in this office. 

   Babette and Paris have never gotten along. Ever since Paris has arrived at this job, she has had the impression that Babette is not Babette's real name. When I first arrived here, I had the same feeling, but felt too nice and polite and vulnerable to say anything. But ever since Paris has arrived she has gone through the A's, the B's, the C's, through to the H's. She's recently settled on Isabelle, because she believes it is a much prettier name than Babette. I personally believe that Babette was Babette's stage name when she performed on Broadway, but I daren't say anything. 

   Babette stands to the front of our small circular office, beaming at all of us. I'm the first one to notice, since I'm the only one who attention isn't glued to the computer screen. Although, I have a feeling Paris is having a nice game of Solitaire, rather than running her check on old debtors. 

   Babette clears her throat, still smiling. "I just want to remind you all that we are due to visit a fortune teller on Monday." 

   I looked up, my eyes directed at the flier of Miss Patty. Today was Friday, we visit on Monday, and I had completely forgotten. By the looks of Paris and Sookie, it seemed they had forgotten too. 

   "You haven't all forgotten, have you?" Babette asks, staring round at us all. I keep looking to the floor. She slaps her hand down on my desk, "Don't even think about telling me you're not coming." 

   "Crap," I whisper, because that's exactly what I was planning on doing. 

   "Well, perhaps it is 'crap', Rory, but you have to come."

   "I can't afford it," I say quickly. 

   "Who is she anyway?" Paris asks. Her mind seems to be more focused on Babette, herself, rather than the game of Solitaire on her computer screen. 

   "Miss Patty," Babette says, with a hint of admiration. 

   Paris rolls her eyes. "Miss Patty? Shouldn't she be called Madam Zora or something?" 

   Babette looks slightly hurt. "That's her name." 

   "Whatever you say, Isabelle," Paris says. 

   "My name's Babette!" says Babette shrilly. 

   "Oh, right ... Babette," says Paris, her voice full of malice. 

   "Hey, that's enough," says Sookie, laying a soothing hand on Paris's arm. Because that was exactly what Sookie did. She calmed people down, and of course - she was very posh. But that didn't exactly help her fashion sense. Today she wore a red shawl over a multi-colored wollen sweater. It looked slightly worn out, but very well cared for. 

   Sookie then says something very posh, she says, "Buck up."

   Babette wanders over to Sookie, looking very forlorn. "I wish that bitch would just leave," she whispers. 

   "It will seem like no time at all," Sookie says. 

   Babette suddenly turns to me. "And you - of course you can afford it now that James is gone." 

   Ah, James. The Complete Waste of Time of My Life. It seemed like perfect at first. My room mates, Louise and Madeline and I went to a party just outside of town and saw quite a few Young and Incredibly Dumb Ones there, of course. The man that really caught my eye, was a gorgeous blond man, hanging out with all his very stupid and cute friends. James was the stand out, he was funny, sweet and caring, and ended up moving in with me three weeks later. 

   And then it went downhill from there. 

   It all started when he woke me up one Saturday morning and began feeding me grapes. Grapes. Like off a vine and fresh from the refridgerator. I enjoyed it at first - well, at least I thought I did. But when he bought me flowers eight times a week, called my mom and told her the progress in our relationship, and invited himself to give me a foot massage every night of the week (OK, that I didn't mind, but hello - the grapes!) 

   I decided that I would have to break up with him. 

   Which, of course, Madeline and Louise couldn't understand one jot. They liked James. I told them they were welcome to him, so then Louise began dating him two weeks later. 

   I turn towards Babette. "So, where does this Miss Patty live?" 

*** 

   "Right ... here." 

   "Ugh ... look at the feral children." 

   "Paris!" 

   "You're too nice for your own good, Rory." 

   I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not. 

   "And that wasn't a compliment." 

   The car pulled up to a convinience store, several young children seemed to be worshipping, either that or they were stealing as much candy as they could from it. I had to admit, it was a pretty ratty old town. The convinience store sign seemed to be peeling so it welcomed visitors as the 'coinince stre'. It instantly reminded me of Luke's and the William's Hardware sign, I felt a pang as I remembered the town. 

   It took me a few minutes to realize we hadn't left the car in five minutes. It seemed Babette was scared of the children, and it also seemed like the children were more scared of us then we were of them. 

   I open my door. Babette looks at me with pleading eyes, but I ignore her. Paris seems to follow suite and she opens her door too. We both stand on the dirt road gazing around at the town. I motion for Babette and Sookie to get out. 

   "Come on," says Paris, "we haven't got all day." 

   Sookie opens her door and cautiously steps out of the car. She seems pleased that she isn't suddenly contaminated. Babette still refuses to get out of the car. "We could jsut leave her in there," Paris suggests. 

   "No," Sookie and I protest, but I secretly think we might have to if Babette continues to act the way she is. 

   The children begin to approach us. I suddenly realize they're the only proof anyone has lived in this town ever. I look at them, they seem to be eyeing me cautiously. "Do you know where Miss Patty lives?" 

   One of the girls step forward. "Yes," she says, "up there through those trees." 

   "You mean we have to walk?" whines Paris, glancing down at her Donna Karan's. 

   "That fat lump in the car isn't going anywhere by the looks of it," says an extremely tall boy. 

   "Hey," I say, "that fat lump is our friend." 

   "Oh, so I'm a fat lump, am I?" Babette asks miserably. She has finally gotten herself out of the car. She's looking very apprehensive. 

   "Before we set off," Sookie says, "can one of you look after my car?" 

   "I'll do it!" a young girl and her older sister step forward looking at Sookie's car with admiration. I notice a sudden gleam in their eyes'. 

   Sookie notices it too. "We better be off then." 

   I follow behind her, Paris behind me, and Babette dragging along behind all of us, looking timidly over her shoulder. 

   Paris begins walking next to me, and when Sookie is way ahead of both of us, she whispers to me, "Ten bucks says her car won't be there when we get back." 

   I glance down at her shoes. "Oh, so, you're planning on walking home in those?" 

   She intakes a sharp breath. 

   I smile to myself. 

   That shut her up. 

*** 

   Miss Patty was what one might call an old fraud, Paris being one of those people, entered her curtain covered room scoffing and left it, beaming and telling us that her money troubles were finally over. 

   Babette was next. And since she was Miss Patty's biggest fan, it wasn't a very big surprise that she came out bursting with happiness and telling us Miss Patty was the best thing since sliced bread. 

   And then it was my turn. 

   I enter the curtain covered room with a fake smile plastered on my face, smelling the strong smell of incense. 

   Miss Patty smiles at me. "Cards or ball, dear?" 

   I cough suddenly, looking at her in amazement. "I'm sorry?" 

   "Would you prefer tarot cards or the crystal ball, dear?" 

   I shrug. "The crystal ball, I guess." 

   She takes a rather large and heavy object from the floor covered in a thin cloth. When she unveiled the cloth I think she expected me to be amazed and dazzled, because I supposed her previous visitors were quite astounded. 

   I wasn't. 

   But this doesn't upset her in the slightest, she just asks me to stare at the ball and tell her what I see. I tell her exactly what I see. It seems this crystal ball needs to be dusted quite urgently. Again, this doesn't set her back, she just suggests the crystal ball wasn't for me, and puts it away, before asking for my palm. 

   I honestly can't wait to tell Madeline about this. 

   I hand it over to her, and have a sudden incling she's planning on spitting in it, but she doesn't and moves her long finger over the lines. "Ooh, it looks like money will be coming in ... and perhaps a better job will be happening very soon." She then runs her finger down the line leading from my pinky, and gasps. She then smiles at me. "Are you in a committed relationship at the moment, Miss Gilmore?" I daren't tell her I am in a very committed relationship with my chocolate flavored lip gloss. 

   "No," I say. "Not at the moment." Oh, why did I have to say that? Now, it makes me seem desperate. 

   "Hmm, well, that may well change soon enough," she says. 

   I raise my eyebrows. Wow, a fortune teller telling me I'm about to embark on a new relationship? Who would've thought? "Yes?" I say. 

   "Rory Gilmore, you're getting married!" 

   That's why we pay them for. 

   I let out a small laugh, before enduring many tall, dark and handsome descriptions, before my session is finally over. I thank her and leave, without looking too desperate for sunlight. 

   Sookie goes in after me, and I ignore Paris and Babette's thundering questions. When Sookies emerges, she looks incredibly white, but I decide it's best not to ask her about. 

   When we return to Sookie's car (which was in fantastic condition) we each forked out $10 to the two girls 'for taking such good care of the car.' While Paris was constantly grumbling I secretly knew it would be just as easy for those kids to destroy her car, as it was for them to look after it. 

   During our car trip home, Babette and Paris gushed about Miss Patty, before finally asking about our sessions. 

   "She said I was going to get married," I say half-heartedly. 

   Paris laughed. "You?" 

   "Well, it's not like I believe Madam Zora now, is it?" I snap. 

   "Miss Patty," Paris corrects automatically. 

   Babette interrupts our bickering. "Sookie, what she say to you?" 

   It took Sookie a long time to answer, and we all knew there was something wrong. "She said I was going to meet the love of my life." 

   The car was silent. 

   You see, the problem was, Sookie was already married. 

   No one spoke for the rest of the trip home. 


End file.
